


A White Proposal

by lydiamrtin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, but just slightly, holiday fic, stiles and lydia are in their 20s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiamrtin/pseuds/lydiamrtin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles proposes to Lydia. That's it that's the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A White Proposal

Stiles cradled the small box in his hands, closing his eyes and internally repeating his lines to himself, until a plethora of what-ifs popped up uninvited in his head. 

What if 3 and a half years was too early to ask, resulting in a huge strain on his and Lydia’s relationship? 

What if Lydia was only dating him for the time being, but was waiting to find someone with more muscles and emotional stability to settle down with?

They were only 27; As much as he loved her, Stiles could not and would not blame Lydia for not wanting to make the ultimate commitment right now. 

“Ready to go, babe?” 

At the sound of her voice, Stiles hurriedly shoved his hands inside his coat pockets to hide the box and stood up with a smile. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” He placed an arm around her waist and walked them to his jeep. 

“Such a gentleman,” Lydia quipped when Stiles held open the passenger door for her. “And, Stiles? Please tell me this restaurant you’re taking me to is within budget,” she managed to get out before he shut the door with a laugh. 

A few stray snow flurries gently sprinkled Stiles’ windshield and Lydia traced them, in awe, with her fingers. 

“D’you think we’ll have a white Christmas for once, Stiles?”

“Doubt it,” he replied monotonously, long since accustomed to California’s dreary, mildly chilly but not at all white Christmases. 

“You know I’m a pessimist, Lyds. If we don’t have a white Christmas, as usual, I’ll be right. If, on a whim, it snows, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“And I’m a realist. I’m predicting a white Christmas based on these snow flurries, and I’m checking the weather app on my phone right now. The temperature is only supposed to drop in the next few days, and the precipitation percentage is fairly high.” 

Stiles threw his hands up in mock shock. “You got me there, Lyds!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “That weather app, that’s almost  _ never _ right, really sold me this time.” 

“Oh, whatever, Stiles,” Lydia chuckled. “Maybe I’m being slightly optimistic this year.” 

“Well now you’re  _ begging  _ for disappointment,” protested Stiles. “I  _ promise  _ it’s profoundly better to prepare for the worst.” 

But unfortunately for Stiles, the snow flurries only continued to thicken and fall down faster, and it was all he could do to keep them on the road. 

“Babe, we shouldn’t be driving in this. I think we should go home, just to be safe,” said Stiles, turning onto a street to turn around. 

“You’re saying we’re getting a  _ blizzard?” _ asked Lydia incredulously. “Look who’s the optimist now!” 

But Stiles just chewed his lip agitatedly as he turned the jeep around and began driving back home. 

“Lyd, baby, could you call back the place on my phone and cancel for me?” 

He’d planned to take Lydia out to dinner at a reasonably fancy restaurant, and then, after dinner, walk her back out to the jeep and then . . . 

That was about as far as Stiles had gotten. He was an insufferably poor planner. He honestly was just going to wing the rest, but now . . . 

“-iles? Stiles?” Lydia snapped him out of his trance. 

“Wha- Huh?”

“I said, do we have any leftovers at the house for dinner? I’m starved.” 

“Yeah, babe, I’m sure we do. If not, I’ll cook something. I’m sorry about tonight, we’ll reschedule, I promise. It’s just this storm does not look good. It hasn’t snowed like this in  _ years . . .” _

Stiles was at a loss for ideas. Tomorrow the two of them would drive out to see family, and he’d already told everyone that he was proposing tonight. If he called it off for now, he’d raise all sorts of questions as to why he couldn’t just go through with it regardless, when they didn’t realize that he was more nerve racked than he probably should’ve been.

When Stiles parked the jeep in their driveway, the pair hurried inside, holding tightly to each other and shivering. The moment they stepped inside Stiles was turning up the heat and Lydia was plugging in the Christmas tree lights. Stiles ran a frantic hand through his hair, desperately trying to push back his pessimistic thoughts for just a few minutes. He could only go through with proposing if he focused on the positive for once in his life; Lydia still had plenty to teach him about that. 

“Hey, Lyd?” he asked, approaching the Christmas tree where she stood admiring her handiwork on the lights. She turned toward him. 

“I need to ask you something.” Stiles gently grabbed her wrists, lacing his hands with hers and walking backwards toward the couch, sitting down and motioning for her to sit next to him. Oh, God. It was now or never. 

“Lydia . . .” Stiles let go of her hands, running his hands through his hair again. 

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Lydia’s green eyes were slightly widened, her plump lips pursed in what he could only describe as concern. 

Stiles’ brain went blank. The words he’d spent days mulling over and honing now indignantly refused to cooperate with him. He needed to say something,  _ anything,  _ because Lydia had been staring at him already for a few seconds too many. She opened her mouth to talk, and in a blind panic, Stiles sputtered, 

“How bad does Lydia Stilinski sound?” 

Well. That was nowhere remotely near what he’d rehearsed. 

Lydia froze. “Wha-”

“I said,” interrupted Stiles, swallowing the lump in his throat and gathering his confidence, “how bad does Lydia Stilinski sound?” 

He didn’t give Lydia a chance to react before he kneeled down before her, pulling out the small, white box from his pocket. 

Lydia’s hands immediately covered her mouth, her green eyes widening. 

“L-Lydia, I love you,” Stiles began, silently willing his voice to cease trembling. “I always knew you were something, from the moment I first met you. When I actually got to know you and become friends with you in highschool, I saw you as an equal. And from that point, that’s when I started falling in love with you. There’s no such thing as love at first sight, because you gotta know a person to love them. Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s a choice. It’s not just appreciating someone’s good qualities, but accepting their bad ones. Once I knew you, though, Lyd, boy did I fall for you.” 

Lydia gasped softly, attempting to prevent herself from crying. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she refused to let a single one fall. 

“Lydia . . .” Stiles fumbled with the box, opening it with shaky hands. He pulled out the ring. 

“Will you marry me, and make me the happiest man on earth?” 

Lydia could no longer contain her tears; she let them pour freely, choking out a yes before she furiously wiped below her eyes to reduce makeup smearing, but hell if Stiles cared about  _ that.  _ Blinking back tears himself, he gently grasped her hand and slid the ring on her finger. They both erupted in a fit of euphoric laughter afterwards, Stiles sitting back down on the couch and leaning in towards Lydia. He pulled her close to him and kissed her wetly, desperately, running one hand through her strawberry blonde hair and the other splayed across her spine, securing her in place. Lydia’s hands cupped his face as she smiled into the kiss, pulling back for a moment to rest her forehead against his. 

“Of course I will, Stiles,” she breathed. “Of course I will.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! PLEASE feel free to drop a comment, I appreciate any and all feedback! :) Find me on [tumblr](http://lydiamrtun.tumblr.com)


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